


Maybe You'll Like It

by stylesoftheshire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, F/M, M/M, Pegging, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesoftheshire/pseuds/stylesoftheshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry didn’t realise he liked cock overnight, nor was it something he had been aware of all along. </p><p>He prefers to think of it more as a gradual process of elimination, initiated by pure chance and solidified by something quite solid indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe You'll Like It

**Author's Note:**

> This is like 1/5 het, 1/5 Zarry and then 3/5 Larry, so yeah.

Harry didn’t realise he liked cock overnight, nor was it something he had been aware of all along. 

He prefers to think of it more as a gradual process of elimination, initiated by pure chance and solidified by something quite solid indeed.

It all started with a girl, a rather special girl really, probably the last girl he ever looked at in that way before he honed in on strictly beef. Her name was Jacqueline, and she first caught his attention at a party when she told someone off for calling her Jackie. She was feisty and energetic with a shock of dark hair and slender fingers that wrapped around her beer bottle like an invitation. 

Soon they were an item, nothing serious but something sweet, and Harry was obsessed with her and the way she talked so fast it was like the words were going to run out if she didn’t.

‘Maybe you’ll like it,’ she murmured one night as she crouched between his legs.

Harry nibbled his lip, unsure. He was open to trying new things and it was hard to say no when she sucked on her finger the way she did, but he had his reservations. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Please, babe,’ she whispered, voice low and eyes dark, dragging her finger across her lips, swiping the head of his cock across her lips, brushing the skin of his thigh across her lips.

He swallowed and thought to himself, ‘What could be the harm?’ before nodding and leaning his head back against the pillows.

She purred with delight and sealed her lips around his cock, swallowing him down and tracing one delicate finger around his hole, making him tense.

‘Relax,’ she soothed, pulling off to collect pre-come with her thumb and spread it around the sensitive skin. ‘It’ll feel good.’

He gritted his teeth and eased his legs further open, gasping when she slid her mouth over him again and pushed her finger inside. He could feel his body rejecting and accepting, and wondered if there were meant to be fireworks, but then she moaned around his cock and curled her finger and he realised his biggest mistake was not trying this sooner. 

It was the hardest he had came since he was a pre-teen, making her choke so some of it dribbled from her mouth and onto his thigh, his fingers and toes prickling with pins and needles. He apologised, feeling half-drunk, and fingered her until she was satisfied, all the while imagining what his own tight body would feel like instead of her wet and open one.

It became a thing after that, something he at first wouldn’t turn down and then simply wouldn’t go without. Jacqueline always obliged, showing him how it didn’t have to be just one, often blowing him with three fingers pressed inside. 

When he was alone he gave it a go, but the angle was all wrong and it just left him frustrated, unable to hit the right spot, and he’d end up wanking off furiously, desperate to come and desperate for something inside him.

-

Things came to a natural and amicable end between them after a few months, but what remained was what she had taught him and in her absence he found himself wondering if there was something more he could be doing. 

He tried Google and learnt the term ‘pegging’, bringing it up in casual conversation with girls who looked like they’d be up for something fun. He’d laugh it off if they reacted badly, but for the ones whose eyes gleamed he would lower his voice and whisper in their ear that he had something at home they might like to slip into.

He had been dubious when the package had first arrived, the two protruding ends looking quite daunting amongst all the straps, especially when he realised just how big ‘his’ end of the bargain was. However, once he had laid it out neatly and tucked it away, he couldn’t open his bedside drawer without getting a pang of anticipatory arousal that had his hand going to his cock and a wet finger circling his hole, not pushing inside, just teasing him enough to pull him over the edge.

He can’t remember the name of the girl who first got geared up, but by this point it wasn’t too important, with the strap-on having been lying dormant for too many weeks, taunting him, long, thick and red. She stepped into the harness eagerly, pulling it tight and moaning as her end slid inside her, fascinating him with the way her hand went to the fake dick like she wanted to wank herself off.

‘That’s my bit,’ he muttered, moving her hand to his mouth instead so he could suck on her fingers.

She got the hint and fingered him until he was ready, leaving him sweaty and with his cock flushed a dark pink.

‘Fuck me,’ he begged, holding onto her waist. ‘Get it inside me.’

She leant over him and tried to look him in the eye as she pushed in, but his eyes squeezed shut, taking the smooth plastic as it burnt and stretched him more than he’d ever experienced.

‘You okay?’ she asked, trembling as she held herself up over him.

He nodded and hitched his hips up, making it go deeper so he was as full as he could get, and then placed his hands between her shoulder blades to get her to move.

When she began thrusting it was nearly unbearable and he almost thought he’d have to ask her to stop, but then she pulled herself up a bit and something changed and that part of him he hadn’t been able to hit right for months was ignited. He hooked his legs around her to keep her just there, and she grinned at him seeking the eye contact again, but he found himself looking over her shoulder at a blank wall instead, finding it too much to concentrate on when she started to fondle her own breasts with one hand. 

He’d always been more of an arse man anyway.

Imagine if she didn’t even have breasts, he wondered, curiously letting himself think of a chest with smooth planes, only raised where they became puckered, light brown nipples.

‘Fuck,’ he groaned, wrapping a hand around his cock.

‘That’s it, babe, touch yourself for me,’ she encouraged mindlessly.

His eyes flickered to hers, bright and wild, and then down to her hips, watching where the straps of the harness pressed into her skin.

‘You look good,’ he muttered, eyes fixed on the movements she made that had his senses flaring. ‘Feels good.’

She hummed back at him, watching his hand fly over his cock as he got higher and higher until his back was arching off of the bed and he came spectacularly all over his chest.

She finished soon after, easing it out of him and then undoing herself from the harness. When she wasn’t looking he ran a finger through his come and sucked it clean, wondering if it tasted much different to any other guy’s.

-

On average, Harry would say he got to pull out the strap-on once a month or so. Sometimes it was just as a one-off and sometimes it was a heady, long weekend that left him like jelly, but he began to realise something, something he missed.

He wanted the drag of skin on skin, the kind of friction he got when they were getting him ready and using their fingers to stroke inside him, but they weren’t enough on their own. 

He wanted the stretch and the feeling of being stuffed so full it was like he had been incomplete until that moment, the way they pegged him so he could feel it for days afterwards.

Harry recognised the compromise, the need for drag and girth, and at first it had set him spinning, unsure if he really knew himself at all. 

It was only natural though, a building revelation as he remembered the faces of the women he slept with less, not through ignorance but through guilty indifference. He found himself disregarding their bouncing breasts and hourglass frames as they fucked him, instead studying the new fantasies painted on the insides of his eyelids until he wanted to see no straps or plastic, just _skin_.

That’s where Zayn came into the picture. 

-

It was a particularly hot summer and Harry was feeling pretentious, sitting on the grass in the shade of a tree reading a book that was more boring that he wanted to admit. The leafy branches protected him from the sun so the aviators he wore were more to hide his eyes as he people-watched, drawn to a group in the park having a barbecue.

It was a fairly large gathering, several girls in denim shorts and several guys with their t-shirts tucked into their back pockets, the smoke from the barbecue surrounding them in a haze. Harry found himself thinking about the harness and dildos in his bedside table, but then he looked again at some of the guys who sat on the blankets, broad and sturdy looking, as their friends played football around them. Their jeans pulled tight around their groins and it reminded Harry that he could get the real thing.

He didn’t realise just how much he had been staring until the football landed on the open pages of his neglected book and a boy with tattoos high on his chest and low on his hip came jogging over, dark hair styled against gravity with a blonde streak in the fringe.

‘Sorry, mate,’ he apologised, bending down to collect the ball so Harry could trace his spine with his eyes.

‘No worries,’ he replied, feeling hopeful when the guy’s eyes lingered on the inked wings that poked out from his low-cut t-shirt. 

He put down his book and uncrossed his ankles, instead bringing his knees up so he could rest his forearms on them. He knew he was effectively opening his legs to a stranger, but the stranger wasn’t making any move to leave anyway.

‘I’m Zayn,’ he introduced, turning away briefly to kick the ball back to his friends before dropping down to sit opposite him. ‘You got a name?’

Harry felt a bit like he was in a movie as he held out his hand and said, ‘It’s Harry.’

Zayn gave a one-sided smile and shook his hand, letting his fingertips catch on Harry’s wrist and stroke almost undetectably unless you were hoping for the signal in the first place.

‘Nice to meet you.’

-

(Nowadays when Harry introduces Zayn to new people, he sometimes skips out the part about him being the first guy to fuck him. 

Instead, he’ll throw an arm around Zayn’s shoulders and say, ‘Kicked a football at me, didn’t you? He was topless though so I found it in my heart to forgive him.’ 

He wouldn’t mention that, when they first met, their agenda didn’t include friendship so much as the mutual desire to get the other naked.

Harry considers himself lucky though – not everyone can point out their best friend and say they lost their ‘second virginity’ to them without awkward feelings that need to be masked with banter.)

-

‘I like your tattoos,’ Harry said, letting his eyes blatantly roam Zayn’s torso. He fixed him with an intense look, eyelids hooded. ‘They look good.’

‘Thanks,’ he smirked. ‘Got a fair few yourself.’ He nodded at Harry’s arms, but his eyes were on where his t-shirt dipped at the collar.

‘Mmm,’ he hummed. ‘Addictive, isn’t it?’ He leant forward and pulled the material away from himself, giving Zayn an eyeful of the birds tattooed on his chest.

Zayn’s eyes widened as he peered down his t-shirt and looked up at him through his eyelashes. ‘I like those. You got anymore?’

Feeling brazen with his first – and what seemed to be successful – attempt to pull someone of the male variety, Harry responded by removing his t-shirt completely and stretching out against the tree.

Zayn drank in the long body in front of him, his gaze catching on each inked space and his tongue wetting his pouty lips.

Harry watched him carefully and traced the words tattooed by his hipbone with a pinky finger, raising an eyebrow at Zayn, challenging, asking, inviting.

‘Might as well…’ Zayn read slowly. He looked up with a glint in his eye that made Harry’s stomach flip and groin tighten. ‘Yeah, alright.’

The lack of awkwardness as they made their way back to Harry’s place was probably an indicator of the easy friendship that would develop afterwards, but at the time Harry was just glad Zayn wasn’t forcing uncomfortable small talk out of him. As far as picking up strange men in parks in the middle of the day went, he felt like he had done quite well for himself, though it wasn’t something he ever did again.

Zayn had him up against the wall as soon as the door closed and his shirt was dropped behind them, pressing his thigh into Harry’s groin and his lips into his neck like he had wanted him for days, not minutes.

‘Jesus,’ Harry groaned, pulling out the t-shirt that hung from the back of Zayn’s jeans so he could grab hold of his arse and pull him closer. He could feel stubble grazing along his collarbone and a hard line pushed against his crotch. ‘’s better.’

Zayn skipped over his jaw and kissed him messily on the mouth for a second. ‘Better than what?’

Harry rocked his hips, unsure if his flushed face would hide his mild embarrassment so he ducked his head to press into Zayn’s neck. ‘My first,’ he mumbled, nipping at the skin.

Zayn tensed. ‘You’re a virgin?’ He sounded uncertain and Harry could feel his body move a fraction of an inch away.

Harry stayed where he was, moving his lips up to Zayn’s ear. ‘First guy,’ he clarified. ‘Used to get girls to fuck me with dildos.’ He slipped one hand between them, groping for the solid shape of Zayn’s cock. ‘Before I realised what I really wanted.’

‘Shit,’ Zayn hissed, pushing forward again. ‘Lemme show you what you’ve been missing, yeah?’

Harry growled low in his throat and let himself be dragged over to the sofa, pliant and needy when Zayn’s hands pulled his jeans down his legs and flung them over the coffee table.

‘No underwear?’ Zayn commented, raising an eyebrow. ‘My kinda guy.’ He unbuckled his jeans and let them fall to the floor, leaving them both stark naked. ‘Great minds think alike.’

Harry bit his lip. ‘The stuff’s in the bedroom, second door on the left.’

He watched Zayn’s bum and back muscles as he hurried off to get the supplies, snaking a hand down his stomach to tease around his cock lightly. He was too thrilled that this was actually happening to be able to touch himself properly.

He hooked one leg over the back of the sofa when Zayn returned and, judging by the way he was already squeezing lube onto his fingers, he wasn’t the only one to be eager.

‘Christ, look at you,’ Zayn mumbled, settling himself between Harry’s open legs. He pushed a finger in without much preamble, thick eyelashes fluttering when he felt Harry tighten. ‘You’ll never forget this.’ 

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Harry gasped. Zayn’s fingers were thicker than any of the girls’ had been, feeling the twist and burn even more when they curled inside him. ‘Fuck.’

‘Better?’ Zayn asked with a smirk, bending over him and mouthing one of his inked birds. ‘Nothing beats being with a guy, right?’

Harry shook his head, muted, wondering why the hell it took him this long to realise that this was what he truly wanted. He wanted strong muscle, unshaven jaws, flat chests, v-lines that pointed toward the hard cock that was rubbing alongside his, he wanted it all.

A second and third finger followed soon after, making Harry inhale sharply and grab hold of Zayn’s shoulders, thumbs digging into his tattooed collarbones. His curly hair was pressed flat against the arm of the sofa with the force Zayn pushed them into him, but he savoured every single thrust until he got that familiar feeling of needing more.

He slid his hands around to Zayn’s neck, making them look each other in the eye. ‘Fuck me.’

When Zayn pushed inside him, Harry felt everything he had been looking for – the slight drag of skin, the glorious stretch, no artificial straps pressing into the backs of his thighs, it was all real.

‘Oh my god,’ he groaned, wrapping his legs around Zayn’s waist and encompassing one of his arse cheeks with a large hand. ‘Fucking hell.’

‘Yeah?’ Zayn breathed, pistoning his hips. ‘Good.’

For a while, the only sounds that could be heard were the involuntary noises that choked out of their mouths and the skin-on-skin slaps, the smell of sex already thick in the air.

Harry held on as long as he could, digging his heels into the base of Zayn’s spine and wound so tight with his cock sliding between them until his vision was clouded with multi-coloured spots and he clenched, coming hard all over his stomach. 

Zayn came with his face buried into Harry’s neck, sucking a bruise into the skin like he was awarding him a medal for his first time with a guy.

-

He ended up staying until late at night, both of them getting carried away in conversation and privately amused that they had found such a surprisingly compatible new friend under the strange circumstances.

-

‘Kicked a football at me, didn’t you?’ Harry nudged Zayn with his hip playfully before turning back to the guy leaning against the bar in front of them and winking. ‘He was topless though so I found it in my heart to forgive him.’

The guy laughed, eyes crinkling and sharp teeth showing, and Harry took the opportunity to share a quick look with Zayn, a look that said, ‘Back me up here, I want this guy to fuck me.’

Zayn nodded briefly at him, always ready to be his wingman, but Harry recognised the mischievous glint in his eye that told him he might be a bastard about it.

‘I’m Louis, by the way,’ the guy said once he had finished laughing. He clinked their bottles together and grinned at them beatifically. Damn, Harry thought, this is a pretty one. ‘And you’re Harry? And Zayn?’

‘That’s right,’ Zayn confirmed, smiling amicably. He drained the last of his beer and set the bottle down. ‘So Louis, chicks or dicks?’

Harry sprayed his mouthful of lager all over the bar. ‘Zayn,’ he hissed, but Louis just laughed again, big and beautiful.

‘Have a guess,’ he winked, resting a hand on Harry’s forearm.

‘What if I told you my boy here is one of the best fucks I’ve ever had?’ Zayn asked, quirking an eyebrow suggestively.

Louis’ perfectly sculpted jaw dropped open a fraction and he looked between them like he was worried he had read the situation all wrong. ‘I thought you said...?’

‘For fuck’s sake, Zayn,’ Harry groaned. He hated it when Zayn took this route, the ‘ _I’ve been there so I know what I’m talking about_ ’ route. ‘You’re going to scare him away.’

Louis’ eyes rested on Harry then, looking hopeful and cheeky. ‘You saying you want me to stay, Curly?’

Harry felt himself blush but held his ground, looking up at him through his eyelashes like Zayn had taught him. ‘Maybe.’

Louis then gave him a very purposeful once over, prompting Harry to do the same, his groin going as tight as Louis’ jeans looked. Louis was watching his face when he looked him in the eye again, but turned back to Zayn instead.

‘Make your case then, mate.’

Zayn grinned and threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders. ‘Well…’

Harry only half listened to what he was saying, trying to blot out embarrassing phrases like, ‘He fucking loves getting a cock up his arse,’ and instead focusing on the way Louis’ fringe fell in his eyes and how his t-shirt stuck to his small, curvy body and made his arms look fantastic. 

He caught the words, ‘Horny bastard grabs hold of your arse and won’t let go,’ but he was too busy burning holes into the tight denim that seemed painted onto Louis’ thighs and clung around his groin.

Suddenly, Zayn slapped him between the shoulder blades, jolting him out of his mental undressing and he looked up to see Louis watching him with his head tilted to the side.

‘That true?’ he asked, blue eyes intense.

Harry blanked, wondering what the hell kind of sex story he was supposed to confirm. ‘Is what true?’

Louis’ eyes dropped to scan his torso quickly. ‘That you’ve got some tattoos.’

Harry felt relieved. ‘Yeah, I’ve got a fair few. Do you have any?’

Louis held out his arm and for the first time Harry noticed a small stick-figure on a skateboard, simplistic and quirky, tattooed onto the soft skin of his inner forearm. ‘It’s relatively new.’

‘I like it,’ Harry grinned, before unbuttoning the top of his shirt and pulling it apart. ‘Have a look down here.’

Zayn snorted. ‘Same move he pulled on me, once upon a time.’

‘It works,’ Louis murmured, stepping close enough that Harry could appreciate his pretty eyelashes. He took the collar of Harry’s shirt between his fingertips and looked down, breathing hot air on Harry’s collarbones and chest as he admired the ink. ‘Grab your coat.’

Harry blinked at him, a bit distracted by the proximity and the fact that Louis seemed to be stealing all of his air. ‘What?’

Zayn cackled and smacked him on the arm. ‘He means you’ve pulled, mate. Get the fuck out of here before he changes his mind.’

Harry watched Louis’ lips curve upward, feeling his fingers trailing down the exposed skin of his chest. ‘Yeah?’

Louis nodded and turned around to pick up his jacket. Harry’s eyes fell to his arse, full and round, and he found himself immensely looking forward to grabbing hold of it and not letting go.

-

Harry thought he was sure he liked guys as soon as Zayn had fucked him, but any residual doubt, any tiny part of him that still wanted to get a girl into the strap-on that sat lonely in his bedside drawer, was shot clear out of his head after the night he brought Louis home.

He hadn’t been fucked by many guys recently, in fact there had only been a couple since Zayn, so when Louis pushed inside him it was starkly obvious that his girth was nothing to joke about.

He had gotten an idea of it before when they were sat on his sofa, or rather when Louis was sat on his sofa and Harry was sat on Louis. Straddling might be a better word for it though, as he bracketed Louis’ incredible thighs with his knees and started grinding down on him, feeling him thick and hard.

They were both out of their jeans, but had tripped over them as they stumbled through the flat, resulting in them only making it to the sofa, one on top of the other and only the thin cotton of their boxers separating them. Louis’ hands cupped Harry’s arse cheeks and Harry’s hands were in Louis’ hair, their lips bruising each other and pulling each other in.

‘Get your shirt off, yeah,’ Louis instructed breathlessly, groaning when Harry sat back a bit so the line of his cock brushed up against his balls. ‘Christ.’

Harry smirked at him, pushing his arse back into Louis’ hands, and slowly started to unbutton the rest of his shirt, still rocking into him.

Louis growled in frustration but didn’t interrupt, watching raptly as each new inch of flesh was revealed, pale and painted with black, until Harry let the shirt fall from his shoulders.

‘Oh my god,’ Louis whispered, and then his hands were sliding up Harry’s back and pulling him close so he could mouth hotly across his skin and lick over the detail of his tattoos.

Harry tipped his head back when Louis started sucking on his nipple and threaded his fingers into his soft hair to keep him there. He loved the way Louis didn’t even comment on the presence of four and instead just started rubbing the extra ones one at a time with his thumb, like he had already become fond of them without needing explanation.

When he bit down on the tight little nub, Harry groaned, grinding along the length of Louis’ dick and rocking his body wholly so he could get some pressure where he really wanted it. He pulled the hand that was holding the small of his back up to his lips and sucked on it with intent, making Louis’ eyes pop open.

Very deliberately, he then placed the hand back where it was and Louis got the hint, slipping below the waistband and running his finger down the cleft of his arse until he found the puckered skin.

Saliva was never a good lubricant, but Harry didn’t care, enjoying the fire when Louis pushed his finger inside nearly dry, moaning unabashedly as Louis looked up at his face in wonder. He rode down on his knuckle and Louis slid his other hand into his hair, twining his fingers into the curls and tugging on them none too lightly, something Zayn had tipped him off to.

Harry gasped and allowed his head to be pulled right back so Louis could leave biting kisses on the column of his throat and the place where his neck met his shoulder.

‘Wanna fuck you,’ he said, grazing his teeth against his skin and pulling out his finger. ‘Gunna fuck you now.’

‘Yes,’ Harry hissed softly, sliding sideways off of Louis’ lap.

Louis expected him to stand up and lead the way to the bedroom, but instead Harry knelt between his legs and crouched over him, mouthing and blowing hot air over the material that covered his cock, suckling at the small damp spot where he was already beginning to leak.

‘Christ,’ he moaned, pushing Harry’s head down so he could feel the edge of his nose alongside his dick and his chin against his balls. ‘Harry.’

‘Love cock,’ Harry mumbled, and Louis would have laughed if Harry didn’t suddenly pull down his boxers and seal his lips around him, nearly taking him all the way back like he had been starved of it.

Louis nearly choked, curling his fingers tightly into Harry’s hair, not to keep him there, just for something to hold on to. His hips bucked up on their own and Harry groaned long and low, making him feel it all the way from the tip to his balls. 

‘Fucking hell,’ he managed through gritted teeth, losing his breath all over again when Harry looked up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, looking like he was as half-gone as Louis was. ‘Shit, you’re gunna make me come.’

Harry pulled off at that, wiping his hand over his mouth. His voice was gravelly when he said, ‘Not before you fuck me.’

-

Louis was charged when he threw Harry down onto the bed, dragging off his boxers and not caring if he was being too rough because there was a light in Harry’s eyes that told him he liked the way his dick slapped up against his stomach a little too hard.

Thinking he should return the favour he spent a few minutes licking fat stripes up the length of Harry’s dick, sucking his balls one at a time and then going lower to kiss messily over his hole.

‘Louis, oh god, please,’ Harry panted, scrambling blindly on his bedside table for the tube of lube. ‘Fingers.’

Louis went right ahead with two slicked fingers, making Harry yelp, but the pace he set up was addictive like the burn of a tattoo gun, and he was soon pushing down to meet his hand, one foot up on Louis’ shoulder.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he chanted, and then something lighter fluttered up inside him when Louis turned his head to kiss the inside of his ankle. ‘Louis.’

Three fingers stroked inside him and Harry wondered if he should ask for four because Louis had stepped out of his underwear and he could feel the size of him nudging the back of his thigh.

‘You look so good,’ Louis muttered, circling one hand around Harry’s calf. ‘Want another?’

That light something fluttered inside him again like he thought Louis could read his mind, and he nodded, sucking in a pained breath when Louis’ pinky finger squeezed in as well. It was the most he’d had in terms of fingers and it hurt like hell, but Louis’ hand was sliding from his calf and down to his thigh, stroking in the crease of his groin, erotic and soothing.

‘You’re doing so well,’ he whispered, crooking the bunch of his fingers and massaging inside him, trying to get back to the place that made Harry’s eyes squeeze shut. He found it and Harry’s back arched. ‘That’s it, babe.’

‘You’re amazing,’ Harry gasped, hands like clamps in the sheets. ‘Need you properly.’

‘Condom?’ Louis asked, even though he wanted nothing more than to feel everything Harry had to offer.

‘Not got any,’ Harry said, shaking his head. ‘I’m clean.’

‘Shit, yeah, me too, okay, fuck,’ Louis rushed out, shakily squeezing lube onto his cock.

He spread it around by rubbing it up alongside Harry’s, making him squirm and whine. ‘Lou, please.’

Despite all the preparation, Harry couldn’t stop himself from whimpering once Louis was buried all the way inside, trying to focus on the way it rubbed him the right way and the way Louis’ balls were pushed against his arse cheeks.

But then a soft finger was running under his eyelid, catching the tears he didn’t know were there. He watched in fascination as Louis put the finger in his mouth.

‘You alright?’ he asked gently, moving his hips almost unnoticeably.

Louis’ eyes were bright and Harry felt it in the pit of his stomach. He tugged him down, tasting his own salty tears on Louis’ lips and then hitched his legs up. ‘Fuck me.’

It only took a minute and then Harry was in bliss, legs open wide with Louis’ hands holding onto his ankles tightly, fucking into him with earnest. Harry could feel the sweat on his back as he was pushed and pulled up the mattress and looked between the v of his legs as they framed Louis’ body, golden and smooth.

Louis’ stomach tensed each time he thrust forward and his fringe was damp, making Harry want to reach out and brush it away but he was helpless, only able to reach behind him and hold onto the railings of his headboard. 

‘You feel so good,’ Louis moaned, eyes dropping down to where his cock was disappearing inside Harry’s tight body. ‘So good at taking it.’

‘Yeah, Lou,’ he panted. ‘So fucking big. C’mere.’ He hoped Louis would understand and was grateful when Louis dropped his legs and bent over him instead, pushing their chests together and trapping his swollen dick between them.

‘Gonna grab hold of my arse and not let go?’ he joked breathlessly against Harry’s lips.  
Harry growled, scratching down from Louis’ shoulder blades until he could span one large hand over the near-entirety of the small of Louis’ back and the other could squeeze at his arse. 

‘Your fucking arse,’ he muttered. It was just right, soft and firm, and tight when he pushed into him. Using both hands, one on each cheek, he pulled Louis in closer, groping, palming, clawing. ‘Oh god, yes.’

‘Fuck, Harry,’ Louis panted, pressing his face into Harry’s neck and pounding inside him as much as he could with the hands that kept him deep. ‘Nearly there.’

‘Want you to come on me,’ Harry said, sounding wrecked. ‘Come on me, Louis.’

‘You’re gunna kill me,’ he replied, almost reluctant to pull out just yet until suddenly Harry’s hand was between them, tugging at his own cock doggedly. 

‘Keep fucking me, Lou,’ he whined, working his hand over himself desperately. ‘Keep going, gunna come, oh god.’

Louis was mesmerised by the way Harry’s face scrunched up, brow furrowed and mouth open in a silent moan, nearly going over the edge himself when his cock was held in a sudden tight clench and he felt the warmth splash up his stomach.

Harry was barely down off of his high before he was demanding, ‘Come on me now, want you come on me, Lou, please, want to feel your come on me.’

Harry whimpered when he pulled out, but his face was hungry again as he watched Louis’ fist fly over his cock. He liked the way he flicked his wrist and the way his other hand was smearing into Harry’s come as it dripped down his skin, like he wanted to keep him there. 

He looked up to see Louis’ eyes blazing into him, drinking in his fucked out body, and he licked his lips purposefully, tongue still sticking out when Louis shot his load up his chest, some of it catching where he could taste it.

Louis collapsed beside him, body trembling, boneless and beautiful.

‘That was fucking sensational,’ he said, turning his head to the side at the same time as Harry did so their noses were almost touching. ‘We should do that again sometime.’

Harry felt heavy with satisfaction but light with something else. ‘Definitely,’ he replied, voice croaky.

Louis smiled at him perfectly and Harry mirrored it. ‘Glad you agree.’

‘You know, a few months ago I didn’t even really know that I liked guys.’

‘Really?’ Louis looked genuinely shocked and ran a finger down Harry’s jaw, collecting some of the come that had landed there. ‘Could’ve fooled me.’

Harry giggled, dimples and all. ‘I don’t really see myself changing my mind again anytime soon.’

Louis grinned. ‘Good to hear.’

-

Harry gazes fondly across the kitchen to where Louis is standing in just an apron, strings tied so they dangle down between his arse cheeks. He turns around with flour on his nose, pretty face forlorn because the cupcake mix isn’t the right consistency, and Harry makes a mental note to find Jacqueline and thank her, because if it wasn’t for that uncertain beginning then he wouldn’t have gotten his happy ending.

-


End file.
